


Marianne's Gift

by jupiter23



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 16:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6712105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jupiter23/pseuds/jupiter23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marianne has a wedding present for Bog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marianne's Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Some parts of the first part of this fic were originally from another fic I started writing that's not likely to ever see the light of day now. And I had been looking for a way to start this one, so it seemed ideal to use it. Enjoy!

The air grew steadily colder as the evening wore on. Bog and Marianne had watched the sunset from their seat on a tree branch, Bog’s back to the trunk with Marianne curled up between his legs, her back to his chest and her wings and his arms wrapped around her. But the sun had set hours ago and now the sky was full of stars. They probably should have gone inside as soon as the sun was gone, but Marianne was perfectly content to stay right where she was. Bog was perfectly content to let her. She was, after all, due to leave with the rest of the Fairies on their winter migration the next morning.

As much as Bog didn’t want her to go, he’d much rather spend a few months apart from her than watch her freeze to death by staying with him. And freezing to death was exactly what would happen to the unfortunate Fairy who ignored the drive to fly south when winter set in. Marianne certainly wasn’t going to get a choice in the matter. She had described it to him as this really insistent voice in your head that got louder the longer you ignored it, and eventually it got to the point where you couldn’t think about anything else until you were on your way.

Bog had partially understood what she was saying. While Goblins didn’t migrate, most of them did hibernate.  And as soon as winter fully set in, well over half of the population of the Dark Forest would be dormant. Including his mother, who was getting crankier by the day as the weather got colder. Truth be told, he was always secretly eager for her to go into hibernation. In past years it was because it saved him a few months of her being all over his back about finding a girlfriend. This year, he wouldn’t have to listen to her harping on about his and Marianne’s upcoming wedding that would happen as soon as the Fairies returned. He understood that she was excited about it, but as time wore on it was all she would talk about and Bog was beyond tired of it.

At this point, a lot of goblins had already gone to sleep and still more were getting ready. It lent a quietness to his kingdom that didn’t exist during the warmer months. He had wanted her to experience it for at least a little while before she had to go, hence why they were out here now. But he was starting to think they should head back to his castle soon.

“Why is it,” she wondered out loud, cutting through their companionable silence, “the stars always look so much clearer in the winter time?” 

 “Huh?” he answered.

“Haven’t you ever noticed?” Marianne asked, glancing up at him. “It’s like you can see them better, and there are more of them.”

Bog looked out at the night sky. She might have been right, but to him it only looked the same as it usually did when there was no moon.

“I’ve never really noticed before. I tend to stay indoors as much as possible when winter comes.”

“Really? Must be boring.”

“Not quite so boring when you consider the snow and ice everywhere. Trust me, staying inside next to a fire is preferable.”

“Didn’t you tell me you have to help patrol, though?”

“Yes, which is how I know I’d rather be inside.”

Bog remembered telling Marianne about this. As soon as all the goblins that were going to hibernate were down for the winter, anyone who was still active was needed to guard over the rest of the kingdom. That included its king, who had never needed to sleep for the winter. Still, though, flying around through frigid air was not pleasant. And it was always worse if it had just snowed, which happened way too much for Bog’s liking.

“Speaking of inside,” Bog continued, “aren’t you ready to go in?”

Marianne groaned and her face twisted in disappointment. “I suppose,” she answered as if she were being forced.

Bog arched an eyebrow at her tone. “Well, I was comfortable!” she retorted. Then she sighed. “I am starting to get cold, though.”

Bog smiled and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Bedtime, then,” he said.

 They both stood up, and Bog retrieved their weapons from the next branch over. Marianne sheathed her sword and took flight. Just before he could join her, she stopped and turned to hover in the air in front of him, biting her lip thoughtfully.

“You know, I was thinking,” Marianne said at his questioning look. Bog waited patiently for her to go on, but she didn’t. Instead she studied him for a long moment.

When Bog finally opened his mouth to prompt her to go on, she suddenly leaned in and kissed him, her tongue delving into his mouth.

Then her mouth broke away from his to trail kisses across his cheek and to his ear. He was still trying to remember what his name was when she murmured the rest of her thought to him. “I was thinking…”

“Yeah?”

“…that I’m not tired,” she finished, giving his earlobe an extremely sensual tug with her teeth that also shocked him right back to his senses. Then she zipped off towards his castle, her laughter trailing behind her. It took him another second to register what had just happened before a slow smile spread over his face, a growl emanating from deep in his chest. Then he was after her. Marianne’s laughter rang out through the quiet Dark Forest when Bog caught up to her.

 

_~Four months later, early spring~_

Marianne clutched Bog’s arm as the two of them waited outside of the massive doors to the ballroom in the Fairy Kingdom’s castle. Their wedding had been earlier that day, and everyone was gathering for the reception being held in the ballroom while Marianne and Bog waited to be announced to the room at large.

Bog, she could tell, was still trying to hold his annoyance with the whole thing at bay. Goblins didn’t have such things as wedding ceremonies, he had once told her. The closest they came to such a thing was if the couple decided to announce their intentions to mate with one another, their friends and family might throw them a party. But there was no long, drawn-out ceremony attached to it. For that matter, it wasn’t required for them to tell anyone they were planning it, either. As soon as they mated, they were considered married.

And that was what had happened with her and Bog around six or seven months ago. This had all come up when they had started talking about taking their relationship to that level a month or two before that. Marianne had then had to tell Bog that while she didn’t object, and truthfully, the Goblin version of a wedding suited her just fine, the Fairy Kingdom’s council would never recognize it. If they did have sex with one another, they would have to keep the Fairy Kingdom council, and probably her father too, from finding out. Otherwise they’d start raising all kinds of hell about it.

So in the interests of having a marriage that would be recognized in both kingdoms, Bog had to bite his tongue and go through the motions of a Fairy wedding. And the subsequent wedding reception.

Marianne knew it hadn’t been all bad for him, though. Judging by the completely awe-struck look on his face as soon as he saw her at their wedding, whatever aggravation he had been feeling had disappeared for a little while. Marianne had wanted to make sure her wedding dress didn’t look remotely like the one she was almost married in the last time. This one was floor-length and was made out of flower petals that matched her wings. Dawn had wanted her to accessorize it with a pair of gloves, but Marianne had flatly refused. There had also been a pair of slippers to go with the dress, but as soon as Dawn was out of sight, Marianne had traded them for her boots. She was pretty sure Dawn still hadn’t noticed. The only other thing she had agreed to wear (mostly because she couldn’t really get away with _not_ wearing it) was a green-gold tiara with amethysts inset into it.

Marianne herself hadn’t been able to take her eyes off of Bog since she first saw him at the ceremony. On his head was a crown made of what looked like the same kind of metal his staff was made from, inlaid with amber and other stones Marianne didn’t recognize. Dawn had also made him a cloak out of moss from the Dark Forest that was held together at one shoulder with gold ties (and that Bog kept tugging at the collar of) and that fell over his wings (which Marianne could see twitching against the unfamiliar weight against them).

She gave his arm what she hoped was a comforting squeeze. Her current plan was to get the two of them out of there as soon as she could manage it, and it wasn’t just because she knew he’d start getting cranky after a while if they didn’t leave.

Honestly, Marianne should have been _way_ more excited for her wedding than she wound up being. And she had been, until that morning. After what she found out, the wedding paled by comparison. She had wanted to tell Bog as soon as she could, but Dawn had staunchly refused to let Bog and Marianne see one another before the wedding. Since the wedding, this was the first time they had been alone with one another.

Bog smiled down at her. “Have I told you how beautiful you look?”

Marianne giggled. “Only about thirty times so far.”

His smile broadened, then he let out a breath through his nose and his wings gave another twitch from under the cloak. “So how long do you think it’ll be before we can escape?”

Marianne had to bite back a laugh. It made her happy to know they were of the same mindset. “I give it about an hour. Once everyone’s had enough wine and starts dancing, they’ll hardly notice us anymore.”

Bog arched an eyebrow. “That long, huh?”

“Why? You think it’ll take longer to get out of there?”

“No. As a matter of fact, I plan to be out of there sooner if possible.” He shifted his arm until he was holding her hand in his. Then he brought her hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of it, and he caught her gaze with his. His eyes had darkened with lust and there was a mischievous gleam to them. “See, I’ve been having this…craving…for Fairy all day.” He turned her hand in his and playfully nipped at her palm.

Marianne’s grin broadened and her eyes darted down the hallway behind them. “If we leave now and fly fast enough, they’ll never catch us.”

Bog smirked and opened his mouth to answer. Before he could say anything though, the door to the ballroom opened wide enough for a Fairy guard to stick his head through.

“Are you ready, your majesties?” he asked.

But Marianne barely heard him. As soon as the door opened, the scent of all the food being served in the room flooded through it full force. Her smile dissolved and she could feel the blood drain from her face as her stomach suddenly lurched.

She clapped one hand over her mouth and ripped the other one out of Bog’s grasp.

“Marianne, what--!?” Bog had started, his own good humor gone.

“ _Shit_ ,” was all Marianne could manage to grit out through her clenched jaw and the hand she still had clamped over her mouth as she fought back a heave. All at once, she turned and took off flying down the hallway and towards the nearest door leading outside. She could hear the buzzing of Bog’s wings behind her a few seconds later.

The closest exit turned out to be the one that went through the busy kitchens, which didn’t help matters at all. Marianne tore through them, to the confusion of the cooking staff and servants rushing around the place as their crown princess flew through with her new husband not far behind. She managed to make it outside and began emptying her stomach behind the nearest clump of grass stalks.

Suddenly a pair of large, clawed hands were pulling her tiara off of her head and handing it to someone behind her, and then returning to smooth her hair away from her face. It seemed like it was from a distance that Bog was barking at someone to go find a doctor. Marianne wanted to tell him that it wasn’t necessary, that she’d already seen the doctor, but her stomach didn’t seem to want to cooperate.

It seemed like an eternity before she was finally done. Now lightheaded as well, she slumped weakly back into Bog’s arms as she drew the back of her hand over her mouth. A cup full of water appeared in her line of sight, which Bog took and pressed to her lips.

“Drink,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. Marianne obediently pulled in a sip of the cool water, swished it around her mouth, and spat it out.

“Good,” Bog said, rubbing her back as she drank again. The water was soothing on her aggravated throat.

“The court physician says she’ll see her highness in her bedchamber, your majesty,” a maid said to Bog a moment later.

“Bog, I’m fine,” Marianne croaked, her equilibrium finally steadying.

“The hell you are,” he argued. Marianne glanced up at him then. He was worried, of course, but she could also tell he was doing his best to keep outright fear on a tight leash.

Marianne offered him a weak smile. “Bog, there’s something I should tell you—“ But she was cut off when Bog swept her up into his arms and flew her back inside. Her stomach began roiling again as he carried her through the kitchens, but settled again once they were a couple of floors up.

She started squirming in his arms. “Bog, really, I’m fine! This isn’t—“

“Marianne!” she was cut off this time by the appearance of her father, followed by Dawn, Sunny, Griselda, the Sugar Plum Fairy, and a small crowd of curious Fairies, Goblins, and Elves. Bog landed in front of them and walked the rest of the way to the bedchamber, ignoring Marianne’s protesting. Marianne grunted in irritation.

“What happened!?” Dawn asked, rushing up beside them and putting a hand to Marianne’s forehead.

Marianne swatted her hand away. “I’m telling you, I’m fine--!”

“She suddenly started throwing up,” Bog answered everyone over her, still refusing to put her down.

“Everyone stand aside,” a new voice ordered. A small Elf woman with a cloth bag under her arm nudged her way through everyone and scurried ahead to hold the door to the bedchamber open for Bog.

Marianne sighed in relief when she realized it was Azalea, the Fairy Court physician. She had visited the physician earlier that morning in her own chamber, so she already knew the reason behind Marianne’s sudden illness. Azalea was also a firm believer in examining her patients without an audience present, so Marianne knew she’d have a chance to talk to Bog alone if she asked Azalea to give her one. She could also count on Azalea to not tell anyone else what was going on, and not just because Marianne had made her promise not to say anything, but because Azalea was also a believer in leaving it up to the patient to talk or not talk about whatever was going on with them.

As anticipated, as soon as Bog passed through the door, Azalea immediately pushed it shut behind him. Her three pixie handmaidens just barely had time to zip in behind Bog. Bog finally put Marianne down on her bed and sat down beside her as Azalea put her bag down on the vanity and started rifling through it.

“The nausea again, your highness?” Azalea asked Marianne as she drew a couple of vials out of her bag, handed them off to one pixie, and then went back into it for something else.

“Wait, _‘again’_!?” Bog said, staring at Marianne in horror.

Marianne ignored him. “Yes, and I was a little dizzy this time, too.” Azalea nodded her acknowledgement and pulled some herbs out of her bag as well.

“ _’This time’_?!?” Bog repeated incredulously as Azalea pulled out a mortar and pestle and started grinding the herbs together.

He was ignored again. “That’s not uncommon, dear. You might experience some fainting, as well,” Azalea said as one of the pixies produced a cup for the physician to pour her herb mixture into.

“ _Damn it Marianne, what is going on!?_ ” Bog finally demanded.

Azalea looked up from where she was pouring the contents of one of the vials into the cup. “You haven’t told him yet?”

“I haven’t had time,” Marianne answered. Bog started growling.

Azalea glanced at Bog, then back at Marianne. “I suppose that’s understandable. We did only find out this morning. But you might want to tell him soon. He looks like he’s about to break something.” She returned to mixing her medicine.

“’This morning’,” Bog said. Then he jumped up and started pacing.

“You mean to tell me—“

“Bog—“ Marianne tried.

“—that you’ve been ill _all day_ —“

“ _Bog…_ ”

“—and we went ahead with that _fucking wedding_ —“

“I’m pregnant.”

“When we could have just— _what._ ” Bog froze where he was and turned back to gape at Marianne. She gave him a nervous smile.

Azalea added some water to her mixture and came over to give it to Marianne. “Drink this slowly, dear. It’ll settle your stomach for a little while. You’ll want to eat some broth or some crackers as soon as you feel like you can manage it,” she instructed as Marianne drank down the medicine.

“You’re pregnant?” Bog murmured dazedly. Marianne and Azalea both looked up where he was still standing. Azalea then went over to Bog and reached up to tug at one of his hands and lead him back to the bed. He sat down heavily on it.

“Stay in here and get some rest. That medicine will hold off your nausea, but I wouldn’t tempt fate by trying to go back down to that party,” Azalea added. Then she motioned to the pixies, who flew over to the windows and opened them. “I’ll go out there and let everyone know you’re going to be fine.”

“Thank you, Azalea,” Marianne said as the physician returned to the vanity to repack her things.

“Pregnant,” Bog murmured again. “When--? How--?”

Azalea had finished gathering her things when Bog spoke and had turned to leave, but stopped long enough to shoot him a bemused look. Marianne gave him a deadpan stare. Then she and Azalea glanced at one another. Marianne rolled her eyes and Azalea shook her head. When Marianne sent her a grateful smile, Azalea slipped quietly out the door, the pixies following her.

Marianne knew Bog had come back down and had noticed the silent exchange when he finally spoke coherently. “Okay, I know _how_ ,” he said defensively, “but _when_ did this happen?”

Marianne bit her lip and set her medicine cup down. “I think it happened that night before I left for the migration,” she said. “About a month after we got to the winter lands, I started feeling, I don’t know… _not quite myself_ , if I had to put it into words. Then it didn’t go away. About a month and a half after that, I started feeling slightly nauseous at random times, and just plain tired at others. At first I had passed it off as something I was eating and figured that it would go away as soon as we returned to the Fairy Kingdom, so I didn’t think anything of it. But after we came back, it didn’t go away.”

Bog blinked at her. “And you didn’t go see the physician then?”

Marianne let out a humorless chuckle. “I was still convinced it would go away on its own. Plus, I didn’t want to worry anyone. But it didn’t. Pretty soon I was actually throwing up. Then my breasts started to feel sore and I started having trouble sleeping. That was when I began to suspect.”

“And you still never said anything.”

“Again, I didn’t want to worry anyone. Or,” she cast a pointed glance at the door where she suspected everyone was still waiting for one of them to come out and confirm for themselves that Marianne was okay, “for anyone to get their hopes up.” Bog followed her gaze, and then rolled his eyes and shook his head. He knew exactly who she was referring to.

“But still,” he said, turning back to her. His shoulders slumped and he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index fingers, his eyes drifting shut. “When you suddenly—I didn’t know—“ His eyes clenched tighter.

Marianne winced. She reached up and pulled his crown off his head and set it on the side table, then pulled him into her arms. He immediately buried his face in her shoulder and his arms came around her to clutch her as tightly as he dared.

“I thought—I was so--” he murmured into her shoulder, his voice catching.

“I know. I’m _so_ sorry. I never meant to scare you,” she murmured back. His hug grew a bit tighter at that.

Marianne didn’t know how much time passed like that. It was most likely a couple of minutes, but it could have easily been hours. All she knew was that at some point the tension disappeared from Bog’s shoulders. Then one of his hands drifted between them to gently trail a knuckle over her lower abdomen and she could feel him grinning against her shoulder.

“We’re having a baby,” he said in wonder.

Marianne giggled. “Yeah, we are.”

“ _Our_ baby. That _we_ made.”

“I know, I was there—“ Bog’s mouth was suddenly covering hers.

Again Marianne lost track of time…

…until the loud pounding on the door started.

“MARIANNE, BOG,” Dawn shouted, “I’M COMING IN THERE, AND I SWEAR IF YOU TWO ARE DOING THE NASTY—“

“ _DAWN!_ ” Dagda snapped.

Their kiss broke as they started laughing. “I suppose we better go out there and tell them I’m going to live,” Marianne said.

“You’re right,” Bog agreed, standing up and holding out his hand to help her up. Marianne hoped his grin wouldn’t go away any time soon.


End file.
